Vinnie's Horrible, Terrible, Very Bad Week
by obi-glasses
Summary: When one of Limburger's experiments completely changes Vinnie's appearence, can he convince his bros that he's the real deal before Limburger hunts him down- or before Throttle interrogates him to death? Some VinniexCharley.
1. Sharp Pointy Things

"Doctor Karbunkle?" Limburger's deep baritone wafted through the mad scientist's domain, startling Karbunkle and making him look away from his computer screens and windows.

"How is work coming along on the transmutation gene?"

"It's hit a snag," Karbunkle admitted. He motioned to the five-foot-long tube behind the glass in front of him, where two technicians were adjusting various tubes leading into the chamber. "There have been some unexplained chemical imbalances in the Darchron, but they're getting cleared up as we speak."

"Damn," Limburger muttered, watching the flowing blue fluid in the wide container. "Camembert's riding my fins about being on schedule. Speed it up- I don't care what you have to do, but we must make this deadline!" He slammed a gloved fist into his other gloved palm and exited, leaving a sweating, swear-mumbling Karbunkle.

0000

"Come on, bros!" Throttle shouted, rallying Modo and Vinnie to continue shooting at the Plutarkian-steel-clad tank.

"I'm runnin' outta ammo!" Vinnie yelped, ducking a laser bolt just in time. It sizzled a little tuft of fur on top of his head, and he squeaked unhappily. "Ow!"

"Modo, Vinnie, we need to split up and tackle this thing from separate angles!" Throttle shouted over the roar of engines and squeal of tires.

"I got the aft!" Vinnie shouted back, jumping over the barrel of the tank's cannon and blasting rockets at the tank's rear thrusters. It didn't do much.

"Darn," the white mouse muttered.

And then he choked as a tranquilizer dart hit him in the neck. His bros were too busy fighting the tank to notice the pained look on Vinnie's face, or his bike's worried beep.

Vinnie's chest heaved as his lung muscles started locking up. He managed to use his elbow to hit the red 'panic' button on his bike's mini-board, and then he started seeing stars in his vision and feeling agony in his chest.

"Bros," he wheezed out.

And the world went black.

0000

"Wakey-wakey, today's a new day!" a sickeningly cheerful voice said, jerking Vinnie out of his drug-induced sleep.

"Whaaa...?" he slurred, opening his eye to see Karbunkle grinning down at him evilly.

"Why, hello there. You don't look so good. Tranquilizer hangover?"

"Shut up," Vinnie mumbled, unable to think of a more suitable retort. Karbunkle sighed.

"I was expecting more spunk out of you. Oh, that's just as well. You can't struggle if you're too tired!" Karbunkle fit a ballgag over Vinnie's muzzle, the black plastic ball connected by a tube to a ventilator. "Now, that's to make sure you don't bite down on your tongue. Hold still." Karbunkle left, and after a few minutes the table under Vinnie shifted and then lowered into a tank of liquid.. something. Vinnie inhaled sharply, blinking against the invading fluid.

There were whirring and clanking noises all around him, and then a sudden, searing pain as something was inserted into his stomach. He grit his teeth, his fists clenching weakly, and his tail jerked violently.

And then the pain was replaced by unbearable agony, something beyond what he'd ever experienced even when his face had been burned. Needles drilled into his chest and he was flooded with searing fluid, white-hot and burning him up. He writhed as best he could, unable to scream because of the gag, and squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

He felt a change in his body, as he floated in his own personal hell- his fur stood on end in the fluid chemical, and the burning heat abruptly faded to a unpleasant warmth. He struggled furiously, the all-consuming pain in his stomach still there, and still growing, until there was something akin to a large explosion in his minds-eye and everything except his soul disappeared.

Dear God, he was _aware _now, aware of the unending void in front of him and the only person there was _him- it was his worst fear come to life- !_

And the void slowly faded, replaced by soreness, fear and hunger. And the sizzling heat was still there.

He moved, his eye opening first. There was no pain as liquid met pupils, which was odd considering what he'd just been through.

"His heart flat-lined for a minute there, but he should be fine."

Karbunkle?

Vinnie turned to look towards the source of the voice, a gleeful Karbunkle standing in front of a equally pleased looking Limburger.

"We can use his DNA for the rest of the supersoldiers. Put him in stasis for now."

Supersoldiers?

_Not on my watch, _the Martian thought. He growled through the gag, straining against his bonds until he snapped them. He jerked and twisted, slamming aside the numerous needles and knives, and burst out of the chemical, newly reinvigorated and pissed off.

He shouted at them, wordless, just expressing his anger and rage, and then bolted for the door, dodging laser blasts as he headed for the window.

Vinnie let out something between a scream and a laugh as he crashed through the window, breaking it and falling three stories into a concession stand. Ignoring the various screaming women and children, he skedaddled down the street and opened the first door he saw, entering into the back area of a wedding supply store.

"Thank you," he mumbled to whatever merciful deity might have been listening. He grabbed a pair of underwear that was marked 'defective' (one hole didn't make the whole package defective, he remarked to no one) and then scurried over to the doorway leading to the main part of the store.

"...So Judy said that Ron was dating Marsha and I was all 'no way' and she was all 'yes way' and then Mark came in and he had lipstick all over his collar so that how we figured out he was dating Joseph, because Joseph likes chapstick, dontcha see..." floated from the lunchroom.

"Oh, God," Vinnie mumbled. "Will it ever end?"

He crawled on all fours, quickly sneaking a bridegroom's outfit from the rack and heading back to the changing rooms, set the clothing down and turned to look in the mirror.

Vinnie nearly screamed his fool head off when he saw the reflection in the mirror.

He was no longer white, and his eyes was no longer red- he was now a very light color of beige, and his eyes were green.

And his face-

"Oh, wow," he mouthed, staring at the restored flesh of his face. He had no mask.

He reached up and touched the fur, feeling the soft, very real fluff on his fingertips. Vinnie felt a knot form in his throat, but quickly swallowed it down and continued studying his new body. His antennas were a deeper red, longer and more slender. His tail was about the same except for the shade of the velvet fur on it. He also had a mane- a curly one, of all things, dull streaky blonde and carefully trimmed. He was the same height, same weight, same basic build, but still radically different.

He wanted to talk, to see if his voice was different, but a cold draft snuck up his back and he remembered the clothing. Vinnie quickly donned it, a ache surfacing in his heart as he realized while dressing that his bros wouldn't recongize him now.

Jeez, he hoped this wasn't someone else's body.

As he finished dressing, he threw the tie aside and ruffled up the sleeves and collar, ripped out the price tag ($5600, he read, and was glad he was stealing it) and then realized- he had no shoes.

And, after a thorough, painstaking search, that this particular store only had one pair in his size and they already belonged to someone else.

_Sorry, bub, hope you have a car, _Vinnie thought to himself as he slipped on the poor sucker's sandals and headed outside through the back entrance.

"Look, there he is!"

Vinnie turned around to see the whole crowd that had been there before when he'd crashed into the stand- several squealing women with papers and several angry men with sticks.

Like Stoker had wisely taught him, he ran in the opposite direction, and the crowd knew better than to follow him.

0000

"Hi, are you looking for me?" Vinnie asked no one, chattering to himself in a mostly empty Wendy's.

It was creepy, really. Talking to yourself but not sounding at all what you normally do. Vinnie had been surprised by the soft, very meek voice that issued out of him- it didn't quite fit his looks, but according to the waiter, it was sexy.

He finished his smoothie and pondered for a moment the odd smell of the $30 that he'd found in the soles of his new sandals. When a particularly unpleasant cause came up in his mind, he stopped thinking about it.

Vinnie tossed the wrappers in the trash and headed outside, ducking into a alleyway and making his way through the backalleys to the Last Chance. A tuxedo-clad giant mouse was not a good thing to be in this city unless you had a gun.

He jumped when he heard the roar of familiar engines, and then held back a shout of glee and headed towards the noise.

"Bros!" he yelled, waving his arms at the two Biker Mice. "Bros! Throttle! Modo! It's me! .. uh, kinda!"

"What in hell?" Throttle mumbled, looking up from his _Enquirer_ to see the beige curly-maned mouse waving at them. "Aw, crap-"

He bolted up from his seat and ran over to Vinnie, looking pissed off. "Are you insane?"

"Sort of, yeah!" Vinnie grinned and clapped Throttle on the shoulders. "Man, am I glad to see you! You wouldn't believe some of the stuff I've been through tod- Hey!" Vinnie let out a protest as Throttle pushed him away and up against the outside wall of a building.

"I don't know who the hell you are, but you'd better explain yourself," Throttle growled angrily. Vinnie winced.

"Yeah, yeah, sure, but not here, okay? The, uh, like Charley's place or something." He cowered visibly at the withering glare that Throttle gave him. "Okay, okay, it doesn't have to be her place! Wherever you wanna go! That's fine with me!"

"Come on, you fool, you're making a scene." The tan-furred leader gripped Vinnie's tuxedo and hauled him off towards the parked bikes.

0000

"So we're supposed to believe that you're Vinnie, in a different body?" Modo said incredulously.

"Well.. yeah." Vinnie shrugged. "Look, I don't know how Limburger did it either, but this is _me _in here! Your bro, your pal, the guy that went to strip clubs and threw money at the women with you! Don't you remember?" He searched his bros' faces for any sign of trust or friendliness and came up with nothing.

"Right. You could've coerced that outta him," Throttle said dismissively.

"I didn't coerce it! I am him!" Vinnie exclaimed, anger rising in his chest with desperation. Never a good mix with someone like him, and he knew it. "Don't you guys remember? We-we were at that club, and Throttle double-dared Modo to go inside, and I came along and said I was gonna be moral support but I was just there for the boobs! And women!" Vinnie took in a breath. "A-a-a-and Modo had to explain how he lost his whole allowance for the month in one afternoon! To his mother! And Stoker said he'd never been more proud of the three of us and..." He trailed off as he hit a snag in his memory.

"Man, you are not good at this," Throttle muttered.

And in the next moment, he had Vinnie backed up to a wall, elbow digging against the young mouse's throat and threatening to cut off his air supply. "_Where's Vincent?_" he roared.

"I _am _Vincent," Vinnie choked out. He stared up at his leader's face as stars swam in his vision and his heartbeat pounded in his head. The tan-furred face offered no mercy to him, and neither did Modo.

"G-guys.. it's me.. it's Vinnie.." His voice faded as he passed out. "Bros.."


	2. I Am him

_Fun fact: Modo was originally slated to play Vinnie's role, but Modo decided not to after learning that there was a nude scene involved. _

_Much love to all my reviewers!_

_0000_

Vinnie groaned, reaching up to rub his aching throat, and then gasped in as he realized he couldn't breathe very well.

"Easy, easy, easy. There you go." Something was pressed to his face, and oxygen flooded his lungs. Vinnie gripped the hand holding the mask down, his fingers prying it off and then desperately holding it.

"Fine job you did, Throttle. Poor boy can't breathe well cause you nearly crushed his larynx."

Vinnie opened his eyes to see a familiar grizzled face above him, and a weight on his calves and feet.

"There's no way in hell that's Vinnie," Throttle's baritone intoned. "He can say it until the end of time and I'm not gonna believe it."

"Fine. But try not to kill him while you interrogate him, okay? I don't wanna bring the defribrillator out." Andy left Throttle and Vinnie alone.

_Shitfuckery on a crapwich, _Vinnie thought, his eyes widening at the look on Throttle's face. True to form, no words were gonna get in the way of Throttle finding his bro.

"Now," the tan-furred Martian said, walking over to Vinnie and towering over him. "I'd like to know where Vinnie is. The real one. _NOW._" He gripped Vinnie's collar roughly and picked him up off the couch.

"I.. already told you.. I'm Vinnie," Vinnie gasped out. Throttle's brow furrowed.

And then he snatched away Vinnie's oxygen mask. The mouse howled in fear and clawed at Throttle's hand, reaching for the mask.

"Give it!" he begged.

"_Tell me where Vincent is!_" Throttle shouted, shaking Vinnie by his collar. The beige mouse coughed and reached weakly for the mask, before his head and vision swam and Throttle clapped the mask back on his face roughly.

"We can do this all day, or you can tell me where Vinnie is and I'll tell the prison guards on Mars to go easy on you." Throttle grinned maliciously.

"Y-you remember that time.." Vinnie gasped out. "Th-th-that time wh-where you and Modo h-had that really, really bad spat over somethin'?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Throttle snapped, annoyed that this fake knew something so private.

"W-w-we was like teenagers, a-a-an' you were r-really upset about it.. and Stoker said to stop your bellyachin' an' go apologize, cause you were too goddamn arrogant and some other shit. An' Modo, he says that's not what he wants, and you says 'what do you want?' and Modo, he said, 'I want my dad back' and that when he tells you 'bout all the problems him an' his dad been having. You told me all about that. You did. You." Vinnie reached up and gripped Throttle's wrist. "You. Told me."

Throttle's face went blank for a moment.

And then he wrested the oxygen mask from Vinnie again.

_Fuck, _Vinnie thought as he clawed at thin air and Throttle's hands. It took him several minutes to pass out completely, and when he did, his voice was hoarse from screaming that he was Vinnie, he was Vinnie, _he was Vinnie._

0000

"_**WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALMIGHTY GOD DID YOU **__**DO **__**TO HIM?**_"

The womanly shout woke Vinnie up with a jerk, and he opened his eyes to see Charley, backing up Modo and Throttle against the opposite wall, her entire frame shaking in fury.

"Get out," she hissed. "I don't care where you go. I want you out of my sight. Get out of my sight." Her tone sent a shudder up Vinnie's spine. Modo and Throttle scowled and headed out to the Scoreboard's roof.

Vinnie let out a squeak to let Charley know he was awake. She immediately went over to him, cupping his face gently.

"Charley," he mumbled. She smiled.

"Hey."

"Charley- Charley-girl, you have to let me-" He reached up, weakly gripping the side of her head, and craned his neck until his antennas touched her forehead. He let a flood of memories through the sudden gateway, and Charley practically sang in joy when she realized it was really him in that stranger's body.

He quickly exited her mind, relaxing against the couch in total exhaustion, his heavy breathing fogging up the oxygen mask. Charley held his face and gave him a long kiss on the forehead, tears running down her cheeks.

"Don't you _ever _do something like that to me again," she said in a shaky voice, referring to his near-death experience.

They stayed like that for a while, her arm underneath his head and her head on his chest, while he wiped her tears of anger and joy away. He didn't want to be around when she remembered that she was pissed off at his bros. He didn't even want to be on the same planet.

0000

"I _saw _it!" Charley yelped, wildly gesturing as she stood in front of a sceptical Throttle and Modo. "I saw what was in his mind!"

"There are tricks that can do that," Modo said. The last thing he wanted was Charley gaining some false hope that Vinnie wasn't dead, but that apparently wasn't going to be easy.

"I _**saw it!**_" she shouted, her hands clenching into fists. Throttle took her shaking shoulders in his hands, his voice a comforting tone.

"Charley-girl, he's dead. You gotta accept that."

_Smack!_

Modo's mouth dropped open in a perfect 'O' as Charley slapped Throttle, hard enough to jar his sunglasses. He let go of her shoulders and gaped at her, too suprised for words.

"You selfish son of a bitch," Charley growled. "You're beginning to look a hell of a lot like a Plutarkian to me." She stalked out of the kitchen and headed for the common room.

"Ow," Throttle whispered, and not because his face stung.

0000

"Ouch." Vinnie winced. "That was a little low, wann't it?"

"Vinnie, he _tortured _you," Charley said in a matter-of-fact tone, repositioning his head in her lap. "That insult was mild when you consider what he did to you."

Vinnie raised his eyebrows and wondered why he only feared her when she had something heavy in her hands.

Sensing something, he looked down towards the kitchen to see Modo standing at the end of the couch, looking guilty as hell despite his attempts to act normal.

"Uhm," he said for lack of a better word. Charley stiffened.

"I'd, I'd like a minute alone with.. him.. for a minute. Please."

She glared at Modo for a second, then gently pat Vinnie's forehead, sat him up and left. Vinnie stared at the grey mouse, genuinely wondering if he should start running now or later.

Modo sat down in the space Charley had vacated, and Vinnie swung himself around so he was sitting properly. For a minute, they just sat there, not knowing what to say until Modo suddenly grabbed Vinnie and nearly crushed him in a bear hug.

And the grey mouse's presence flooded his mind, a raging waterfall with good intentions.

_VINNIE!_

One thing about Modo was that he could mind-deafen a Martian mouse with the 'loudness' of his mental voice. He nearly deafened Vinnie with hs exclamation of joy.

_Out, _Vinnie commanded. Modo withdrew, leaving Vinnie gasping in suprise and a little annoyed as well.

"Wrrrnn mfff or oo oo ad," he said through the crushingly happy hug that Modo was giving him.

"Huh?" Modo let him go, and Vinnie fixed his curls before translating, "Warn me before you do that."

"Sorry."

And then they were reduced to sitting next to each other (again), Modo embaressed as hell, and Vinnie wondering which deity had a evil agenda against him.

"You- you want somethin' to eat?" Modo finally asked.

"Sure." Vinnie grinned. Modo smiled back hesitantly and left for the kitchen.

Vinnie leaned back against the couch, tired and nervous all at the same time.

"You."

"Holy _shi-_" Vinnie cut himself off before he finished cursing, twisting around to see Throttle in the doorway. "Geez, you sneak good!"

Throttle didn't reply, instead going over to Vinnie and standing before him, facing the young mouse with a stone-cold look on his face.

Then he picked Vinnie up by his collar and pressed his antennas against Vinnie's. Being a experienced and high-Psi-rated Martian, it took a mere second longer than a lesser-rated mouse to enter Vinnie's mind. And in that second, Vinnie brought up each detail of the experiment that had changed his apperance, every agonizing second, every atom of pain, and then threw it all at Throttle when the older mouse entered his mind.

The scream, both mental and physical, from mental and physical pain, was quietly satisfying to Vinnie. He was the vindictive sort, and he definately held grudges.

And then, when the memories faded, Vinnie showed him death.

The Void- its memory was still fresh in Vinnie's mind, forgotten only for a moment but not dulled in any way. The utter aloneness, darkness and cold pressed on their minds, and-

It proved too much, even for Throttle. The connection was abruptly severed as the tan-furred mouse fell to the floor, gasping for air even though there was nothing wrong with _his _larynx.

"I'm Vinnie," Vinnie said, his voice cracking from the ordeal of the last two days. Tears built in his eyes, dear God, the things that had been _done to him-_

Throttle wrapped his arms around the smaller mouse, his entire body shuddering as he realized what he'd done to his bro.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to the sobbing mouse. "I'm sorry, Vinnie, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.."

"_You could have killed me!_" Vinnie screamed, pounding his fists against Throttle's chest. "_They _could have killed me! _Why didn't you come?_"

"I," Throttle managed to get out, and then his own voice cracked and he buried his muzzle in Vinnie's mane. "Oh, gods, Vinnie.."

"Why didn't you come?" Vinnie sobbed. "It was hell. It was all hell. I was awake, Throttle I was _awake _while they were doing this to me, I felt _everything-_"

"I know," Throttle mumbled through his shame. "I felt it. I felt it all."

They sat like that, Vinnie sobbing loudly and Throttle rocking him back-and-forth and wondering how in the name of the gods he was going to make this up to his bro. Vinnie was right. He could have killed him, and he would have too, he was so angry.

Dear gods, the _pain. _

He had felt it, him and Modo both, while Vinnie was being experimented on. Modo had screamed, long and loud, scaring the utter shit out of Charley as she tried to comfort them.

And then the link, the link between their minds that had been built over such a long time of fighting and being together, had utterly snapped. Vinnie was gone. The triangle crumbled.

That had made agony like no other that they had experienced. Even Charley had felt it, and she wasn't even Martian, but her pain was nothing compared to Throttle and Modo's.

Throttle had made no noise, his body stiffening, his mouth open. Modo had just continued making noise, and Charley didn't quite take it as real until Throttle explained what had just happened.

Throttle sighed. It was clear to him now- when Vinnie had died for that little amount of time, the link had been severed, and when his body had come back online, it hadn't been restored. Why Vinnie hadn't suffered severe mental trauma was a mystery to the tan-furred mouse, but it was a blessing that he wasn't gibbering insanely and strapped in a straitjacket.

"Aww," Vinnie mumbled softly when he'd calmed down.

"What?" Throttle asked, looking down at him.

"I messed up my shirt." Vinnie looked down at the shirt, which was part of the tuxedo ensemble he'd stolen earlier.

Throttle smiled weakly and pillowed his chin on Vinnie's head. The mouse may not have been white, but he was back in (almost) full force.


	3. Living Memory

Karbunkle sighed, rubbing his right temple as he tried to figure where the 4-hundred-billion-gold-gill-loss that had escaped was. He'd been lucky to get any sleep after Limburger had been viciously chewed out by the _entire _High Council _and _the Grand Poobah of Plutark _herself._ That poor fish. Karbunkle had almost felt sorry for him.

Almost being the operative word here. Karbunkle wasn't a psychopath, just a heartless son of a bitch, who grovelled extremely well.

The computer console in front of him beeped, signalling that it had found the singular enzyme that Karbunkle always put into his experiments (at least, nowadays) that enabled him to track them from satellite or via special rays.

The mad scientist grinned, cracked his knuckles and went to work.

0000

"You know, if it was anyone else telling me this story, I'd have fired them by now," Carbine grumbled over the fitzy interplanetary connection.

"_I _interrogated him, Carbine," Throttle said in a stone-cold voice.

"Oh." Her face took on a shocked expression for a moment. "Guess he's the real thing, then. Can I see him?"

"Sure." Throttle stood and motioned for Vinnie to take his seat. The young mouse sat down roughly and grinned at the General.

"Hi," he said cheerily, leaning back in the chair with a distinctively arrogant air about him.

She stared at him for a good minute before she made a motion outside the camera range and said, "Stoker. You should see this."

The older General came over and peered at the screen on his end. "Kid?"

"Hi, Stokes. Looks like Home Makeover Vinnie Edition, don't it?" Vinnie joked lamely. His mentor didn't respond, staring at the young soldier like he was green and had horns. Finally he left, walking outside the camera-frame stiffly.

"Ooh. That is not good," Carbine mumbled.

"What's wrong with him?" Vinnie asked.

"Just a second, lemme show you something." She hit a few keys on her keyboard and a profile came up on the screen, showing a mouse that looked exactly like Vinnie's current appearence.

" 'Khor-Ar-Talphon'," Vinnie read off the screen. "Age, 21. Birthplace, Manna City. _Ja-ar ja-nin_. 'Confessed and convicted', of murdering .." Vinnie's mouth dropped open. "Oh gods. Ara-Ar-Uniyen and Fala-Zay-Uniyen."

"Stoker's wife and kid?" Throttle stared at the screen. "Limburger turned you into _him?_"

"Yes," Carbine's voice said. "His DNA was easily available in the criminal database. Limburger must've chosen him for his ties to Stoker."

"Man, that's si- Vinnie?"

The beige mouse was gone, slipping away when niether of the other two mice had been looking.

0000

"_CHANGE ME BACK!_" Vinnie screamed, slamming a squealing Karbunkle against the wall.

"I-I-I can't j-j-just ch-change you b-back!" the mad scientist stammered. "There has to a procedure-!"

"Oh, like the one where you changed me into this monster in the first place?" Vinnie hissed. There was a crackling noise, and the young mouse's green eyes took on a shade dark and reddish. Startled, he dropped the scientist and then looked down at his stomach, where a needle portruded.

Vinnie dropped to the floor, and Karbunkle massaged his neck and coughed. "Note to self," he muttered, "always keep sedative in the same place on body. Lackeys, please put this jabbering joke into the Darchron tank, if you please." Karbunkle grinned. "He wants to be changed back? Then let us change him back."

0000

"Vinnie!" Charley shouted, looking under the bunkbed that Throttle and Modo shared. "Vinnie, where are you?"

"Probably not under the bunkbed, Charley-ma'am. He's too fat for that." Modo clenched his fists angrily. "That sick son of a bitch.. " he mumbled.

"According to the tracker on his bike, Vinnie's near Limburger Tower," Throttle said rapid-fire. He clicked the visor on his helmet shut and looked at his companions through it. "Well?"

Modo donned his helmet as well, then looked back to Charley. She held Vinnie's pillow up against her chest, a indecisive look on her face.

"Charley." Throttle drew back his visor. "You comin'?"

She inhaled, thinking that if the first time he'd been mutated was agony, the second would probably be worse, and did she want to see that much suffering being endured by something so precious to her?

Hell no.

But she had to, because she knew somewhere in that egotistic, insecure, bashful and contradictive heart of his, there was love for her. And in her own heart, there was love for him as well, although it was new and fragile.

New and fragile things tended to take loss much worse than old and tough ones.

She tucked the pillow under her arm and followed Throttle and Modo out to their bikes.

0000

Vinnie screamed.

He didn't know why, he wasn't even in the goddamn machine yet- but he was screaming at the top of his lungs, "No" over and over and over again. He was partially sedated, so they were actually able to get him down and restrained on the little strainer-like table.

They gagged him, and he still screamed through it, barely feeling the oxygen fill his lungs. They lowered him into the liquid, and his screaming was muffled a little bit. The needles drilled into him again, more this time, seemingly everywhere on his body.

"Let's have some fun," Karbunkle murmured, and flicked the red switch on his control panel.

And then the screaming completely stopped. Right when the process began again, more vicious this time due to the additional codes and fluids and other things that needed to be put into the subject.

As the needles entered Vinnie's body, Karbunkle flicked another switch, commanding the various fluids to flow. Then he touched a few buttons, and another needle drilled into the mouse's head and started another flow, this one to modify the chemical balance of the subject.

Vinnie could not scream.

He didn't know there was anything like this- this hell, where there was so much suffering packed into one place that you couldn't describe it, and it was so horrible that you couldn't even scream it out. His muscles locked up, causing more agony (dear god, there was such a thing as _more of this hell_) as the needles drilled through taut, hard tissue and into bone.

Karbunkle looked up sharply as the intruder alarms flared, and the lights turned crimson.

"Should we stop?" one of the techs (who looked positively olive) asked. Karbunkle shook his substantial head.

"No. There's no way anyone could get in h-"

The mad scientist's words were cut off by a explosion uncomfortably near to the room.

"Ah, that is.." Karbunkle winced. "Well, what are you all standing there for? Grab your guns, damnit!"

There was another explosion, nearer, and angry shouts and a female scream. Karbunkle's eyes flicked from the writhing Martian to the blast door and the sounds coming behind it. His hand tightened on a lever labelled "room flood", and as the sounds grew nearer, the mad scientist's grip grew tighter. He tore his eyes away from the door and checked on the mutation process, the results on the computer screen making him smile tightly in restrained glee.

The door suddenly blew inwards, the glass and metal shrapnel clanging against the chamber Vinnie was in. When the dust cleared, it revealed a extremely-pissed-looking trio of two Biker Mice and a bazooka-toting woman.

"I'm glad you could make it for the show, Biker Mice," Limburger's condescending tone came over the intercom. "Now, Doctor Karbunkle, if you please.. ?"

Shoving back the little voice screaming that it wasn't done yet, Karbunkle deactivated the needles and drills, and drew them back into the tank's thick metal walls. He raised the platform, revealing a straining Vinnie, his eyes shut.

The ballgag popped, and his eyes opened wide, the formerly white sclera now red from the strain. He looked the same as he did before, white-furred, except there was no mess of veiny skin on the right side of his face. The mutation process didn't include old scars gained in war.

"V-Vinnie?" Charley stammered, stepping forward. Throttle held her back, sniffing the air, glaring at the prostrate Vinnie.

The white mouse's restraints snapped, and he sat up, his back heaving as he took in breaths. Then he swung his body around and stood to face his bros and Charley.

His eyes were completely red, with no pupils or white sclera. His fur had a pink tinge to it from the blood, and his fists were closed tightly. Veins showed themselves over flexed muscle, and his tail waved around. The pair of shorts that the techs had donned him in were ripped, suiting the genre of this story.

"Hi," he said, and it was with the voice of something very evil.

And then he pounced.


	4. Aftershock

"_VINNIE!_" Throttle roared, holding down the struggling white mouse. Vinnie screamed in reply, his claws bared and canines showing. He snapped at Throttle, scratching the mouse's chin.

"Vinnie! Vinnie, it's us! It's your bros!" Modo pleaded, straddling the white mouse's legs and tail, while holding back Charley at the same time.

"Vinnie!" Throttle shouted, trying to grip his face, but Vinnie responded with a vicious snarl and another attempt to grab a hunk out of Throttle's face.

"Let me _GO!_" Charley screamed, slapping Modo to get him to release her arm. Suprised, his grip loosened, and she darted over to Vinnie's side and elbowed aside Throttle, substituting his hold on Vinnie's head for her own.

"Vinnie, it's me. It's Charley. It's me, it's your Charley-girl! Please, Vinnie! Calm down!" She clamped his mouth shut, all her strength going into holding his head and muzzle. "Vinnie, it's me! It's your Charley-babe! _Vinnie!_" She ended in a desperate scream of his name, tears running down her face.

Amazingly, he went quiet and still, staring up at her. He craned his neck, sniffing her chin gently, and then jerked a hand out of Throttle's slackened grip to reach up and touch her left cheek, wetting his fingertip with her tears.

"Charley," he said, his tone returning to normal as he finished the word. The redness in his eyes faded to the normal garnet ring, and his body relaxed. "Charley-girl.. what happened?" he slurred.

"Karbunkle changed you back to.. your old appearence," Throttle said, thinking that normal didn't quite fit what he'd been for the last five minutes.

"Man, I feel like someone ran me behind a bike." Vinnie coughed slightly and peered up at Charley. "Babe? Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"Huh?" She snapped out of her happy haze, wiping the tears from her face. "Uh- uhh, I'm fine. I got a little scared there, that's all."

"Charley," Vinnie murmured, sitting up when Modo and Throttle stopped restraining him. "Charley, I'm fine. I heard Karbunkle say something like this would happen afterwards. I'm fine. Ssshhh." He took her into his arms, holding her tight as she recovered. "Shhh, sweetheart. It's all gonna be fine now. It's gonna be fine. Everything's okay."

He leaned against Throttle, his body sore from the ordeal he had suffered. Exhaustion overwhelmed him, and he welcomed the void of sleep that offered itself.

0000

"Man, you look like shit," Stoker said through chuckles.

"You're in a wheelchair? Are you pulling my tail?" Rimfire asked. Vinnie glared at the small screen in front of him.

"You'd never make a day in this thing, flyboy," he snapped angrily. "And my bike is pissed at me too. Thinks I'm cheating on her."

"Technically-" Rimfire started, but Vinnie held up a finger and growled, "Finish that sentance and your foot will never land on Earth soil again- cause I'll have ripped it off!"

Stoker erupted into laughter, falling out of his chair and gasping for breath on the floor of Freedom Fighter HQ. Rimfire stifled laughter, and there were several coughs from the assembled Freedom Fighters behind him.

"You're a bad person," Vinnie grumbled, gripping the wheels of his chair and pushing them back, backing away from the screen. He wheeled off, leaving a giggling Charley and insanely laughing Stoker.

0000

Nighttime. Vinnie shifted in his hammock, no longer feeling the effects of the month-ago mutations and experiments.

His eyes opened for a moment, revealing blood-red orbs. He reached up to rub his forehead, and a deep rumbling growl emanated from his chest.

Waking his own self up, Vinnie realized the imminent risk of bedwetting and bolted for the bathroom. After he'd done his business, Vinnie looked in the mirror and gasped softly.

Two red orbs stared back at him where his normal eyes should have been. He touched the edge of his left eye, and the red orbs faded back into the normal white-red-and-black.

_Let's just forget about that, _Vinnie thought, and went back to bed.

**END**

**0000**

_AHAHAHAHAH_

_CLIFFHANGEEERRR_

_Anyways. This was a blast writing, and unbelieveably, I got it all done in just two days. :D Whoo!_

_I hope you liked it. If you did.. click tha little button down there and tell meh please? *.*_


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